Prologue
“I’m game if you’re game.” Nellie stared at him anxiously.
A man’s burning urges often ignore all logic. Abel Ayala knew this was all this was. A day of sipping on cocktails and lying around the deck of a cruise ship watching scantily-clad bikini-wearing women giving him go-ahead smiles had done it to him. Now he stood here, staring into the eyes of Nellie Gamboa, a divorcee eight years older than he was. From what he’d heard, she was still carrying a load of emotional baggage and probably still held a torch for her ex as well. She was someone he would not and should not be thinking of in terms of releasing some sexual tension. Damn it!
The fact that she’d turned her life around after what had been hailed by Roni, his friend’s wife and Nellie’s best friend, as one of the most grueling experiences any woman could go through, didn’t help. She’d gone and shaped up and did a complete makeover from the mousy woman he once remembered her being. If he hadn’t known it, he never would have even guessed that this sexy-as-hell woman would be hitting thirty soon. The sexual tension between them was a living breathing thing and had been going on for months now. Only up until now, he thought he might be imagining her requited feelings of lust.
His twenty-two-year-old ass had no business with a woman her age—no business getting involved with Roni’s best friend—especially knowing full well he’d never take a relationship with her seriously. But this changed things. Nellie was telling him that she was all for a no-strings-attached relationship. She was as interested in anything serious as he was. Coming off what she called the divorce from hell, she said she wanted to live it up now. He was glad now for the liquid courage Nellie’s wine had provided. If not for it, the offer may’ve never been voiced. She gone so far as to say that she was all for a fun-and-run experience and that she’d had her eye on him for some time.
It was still a risk, his brain reasoned. Things could sour. This could even cause a rift between him and his good friend’s wife if any hurt feelings came from this. But the already throbbing parts of his body said otherwise.
She tilted her head in that sexy way she did so often with curved lips that practically called out for his. To hell with logic! Just pulling her delicate frame against his immediately released some of the pent-up tension that had been building every time he’d been around her lately.
Swallowing hard, he stared at those lips—lips he’d wondered far too many times what they must taste like. “Hell yeah, I’m game,” he said as he took her mouth in his. Feeling a desire like none he’d ever felt before, he kissed her deeply, sucking her tongue and her lips. Damn, he wanted to eat her up.
He’d been fighting it—over thinking it—for months. This was just his ever-so-curious body’s reaction to finally giving into a longing that had peaked tonight as they’d enjoyed a few friendly dances. That’s all it was. But he needed more than just a kiss now. God, he wanted so much more, and since she was game . . . He pulled away from her just long enough to catch his breath and take a look around the almost-empty deck.
“I’d invite you back to my room, but Hector and Charlee might—”
She tugged his hand and was already on the move. “Let’s go back to mine.”
The second the elevator doors closed, Abel pushed her against the wall, pulling her by the waist to him, and his mouth and tongue sucked at every inch of hers. She panted softly, running her fingers through his hair as he moved down to her neck and sucked softly then a little rougher.
As the moving elevator came to a stop, Abel tore himself away. No sooner had the doors opened than they were out in a rush to her room. They turned the corner down the long corridor of rooms.
“How far down?” Abel asked.
“All the way to the end,” she replied, taking even longer strides.
Feeling crazed with anticipation, Abel’s eyes searched for the ice/vending machine room like the one on his floor. The moment he saw it, he pulled her in it.
He answered her confused expression with a kiss as he closed the door and pushed her against it. “I need to refuel.”
All right, he needed to get laid more often. This was ridiculous. Obviously he’d been spending too much time training and not enough socializing, because he’d never felt this kind of urgency. Duly noted—he’d move a few things around in his schedule. She lifted her leg, bringing it around him.
“Careful,” he warned, biting her lower lip, “or I may just finish you up right here.”
“Do it,” was her only response, and he froze.
Pulling back to look in her eyes, he could see she was serious. “Right here?” He asked, his hand already traveling down under her dress.
She nodded as his fingers felt the dampness between her legs and how hot she already was, pushing his heart into overdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against hers. “Sweetheart, don’t play with me.”
“I’m not,” she assured him breathlessly.
Abel opened his eyes, looking down at her big brown eyes. Up until that moment, he’d never noticed the golden specks that were sprinkled throughout. The desire he saw in them now was as urgent as his own; although, he didn’t miss the slightest bit of apprehension. He couldn’t blame her. Anyone could walk in on them. He was certain he’d be able to hold the door closed against the force of any one person or maybe two if they pushed against it—at least until he was sure she was decent. But he didn’t want her doing anything she wasn’t completely certain about.